


The Peasant Paramour

by Coffee_Flavored_Fate



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Romerica - Fandom
Genre: Humor, M/M, Parody, Romance, Romerica, The Princess Bride - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 05:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffee_Flavored_Fate/pseuds/Coffee_Flavored_Fate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, True Love Will Follow You Forever...but...<br/>A Princess Bride parody/homage. Warnings for blatant crack, language. Oneshot. Romano/America Lovino/Alfred,  Romerica.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Peasant Paramour

**Disclaimer: I don't Own Hetalia.**

_Written in celebration of finally getting my computer fixed. One shot based more off the book than the movie, though both were excellent. Read at your own risk. I had some other notes, but don't remember them, so here you go!_

* * *

A long time ago, or possibly not, since it was in a very different universe and time might have different measurement and meaning there, there lived a young boy (actually, there were a lot of people, millions really, but most of them are not relevant to this story and so won't be mentioned, unless necessary).

Now that that's cleared up, there was this boy, our protagonist. He lived in a little cottage on a farm out in the middle of a vast, sprawling countryside, alone with a horse, and his boy (the boy's boy, not the horse's boy, because this is not that kind of story). He, along with his brother, had inherited the farm from their grandfather; but his brother had left many years before to marry a German ambassador, and therefore the boy was all alone on the farm. Except for his horse, and his boy.

The boy had a name, which we should have learned earlier as it would have made the last couple paragraphs much less confusing, and that name was Lovino. Nobody knew why except for his Grandfather, and he was long since dead, so it's pointless to ask. Nevertheless, Lovino was stuck with the name, and didn't really care too much about it anyway. He didn't give two shits about names in general, as was evidenced by the fact that he called his horse 'Horse' and his boy 'Boy'. Those may or may not have been their actual names, but they answered to them so that was all that mattered.

Lovino spent his days on the farm basking in the sunshine and watching his horse frolic about in the pasture (not because he was afraid to ride it, but because it looked happy where it was, dammit), ordering Boy around, and occasionally tending to his tomato plants, because he didn't trust anyone else to touch them. Boy took care of any and all of the actual work on the farm, from plowing, harvesting and bringing the crops to town to sell, to keeping the cottage clean and in sound repair, gathering firewood and taking care of Horse, and when he had a spare moment, fishing, hunting and gathering wild fruits, apples and berries and suchlike, for Lovino to enjoy.

Boy kept things in such good order that Lovino and Horse never had to worry or want for anything. They spent their days in leisure, if not strictly luxury, and all-in-all lived quite comfortably and contentedly on the farm. Anything Lovino happened to want or need, Boy would quite happily fetch or do for him, responding to Lovino's every whim with alacrity and good cheer, and since fulfilling Lovino's wishes seemed to fulfill Boy's, the three were happy.

Now.

The thing you need to know is, Lovino's grandfather had been quite a famous adventurer. As such, before his death he'd travelled far and wide, and spread many tales along the way; chief of which (being the proud and doting grandpa he was) was of the beauty and adorableness of his grandsons.

The result of his bragging was that occasionally people would venture into the wilderness to find the boys and verify for themselves their legendary physical appeal. Very few of those who ventured out ever found the farm, and fewer still bothered to stop and check to see if it housed the boys they sought, not expecting the grandsons of such a famous adventurer to live in such a relatively humble abode. What they failed to realize was that although the boys' grandfather had pulled in quite a lot of treasure during his lifetime, he spent the vast majority of both money and time on wine, women and various pleasures. He therefore left very little for his grandsons after his passing, except for the farm and a small amount of money for each boy.

The German ambassador had been one such visitor, drawn by curiosity; and had fallen rather deeply in love with the younger of the two brothers in quite a short amount of time. As luck would have it, the youngest reciprocated completely, and had generously left his share of the farm and everything on it to his elder brother when he went to live with his incredibly wealthy paramour.

Which left Lovino and Horse and Boy alone together on the farm, except when Boy took Horse to town to sell their harvest and whatever pelts he'd collected and purchase supplies, two or three times a year as needed, and Lovino was left on his own for a few days until their return- well provided for, but still, alone (and if he was unsettled and restless during those times and couldn't eat or sleep well at all until they came back, it wasn't because he was lonely or missed them or was worried or anything, it was just that the food Boy left for him didn't taste as good when it wasn't freshly made, and the bed wasn't as warm or comfortable when Boy didn't make it every day...and the reason he sat on the roof watching the road until he saw Boy and Horse in the distance wasn't because he was anxious for their return, it was just that he was bored, dammit. And he absolutely _never_ cried- his allergies only seemed to crop up when Boy was away, that was all).

It was on one such occasion that a pair of nobles arrived in search of Lovino's Grandfather's famously beautiful, adorable grandsons. The unwitting object of their search had come down from his rooftop vigil in search of a blanket, as the day was an unseasonably cold one and he needed something to keep him warm while he sat on the roof watching the road. He'd passed Boy's room along the way, and had paused to linger in the doorway...not because the room kind of smelled like Boy and it made him feel better or anything, but because, well, it was his cottage, dammit, he could go wherever he liked. In fact, he should use Boy's blanket instead of his own, since it was Boy's fault he was cold in the first place! He wouldn't even be _on_ the stupid roof in this cold if it wasn't for Boy going away and leaving him all alone and bored and cold and _not lonely_. And he'd wear the tunic Boy had left draped over that chair, too! That and the blanket would keep him warm for sure. _That_ would teach Boy to go away and take so long in town, not that he cared or anything, really. And it _certainly_ wasn't that being wrapped up in Boy's things, which also carried Boy's scent, made him feel safer and less lonely, because he didn't miss Boy at _all,_ okay? Just as his fingers closed around the tunic, the sound of hoofbeats on the road met his ears, and his heart leapt with joy and relief. They were back! They were safe! Not that he'd been worried or anything.

He raced to the cottage door, slamming it open. "You're _late_ , dammit! Why'd it take so long to- _who the fuck are you?_ "

"Oh look, _mon amour_ , we've found him!" Instead of Horse and Boy as he'd expected, there were two richly dressed blond noblemen sitting in a rather fine carriage in the road- a long-haired, rather effeminate one in ribbons and lace that Lovino might have taken for a girl if not for the fact that he'd disliked him instantly and that the man was rather hairier than girls tended to be; and a baby-faced one who wore an expression of complete disinterest under a pair of remarkably bushy eyebrows. It was the effeminate one who'd spoken, clasping his hands in a girlish fashion and leaning forward to stare at Lovino with starry, hungry eyes, and he continued in the same fashion, "He is _everything_ the rumours promised~, _à la perfection_! I could just eat him up, the little darling!"

One of the bushy one's green eyes twitched in annoyance. "I don't know." He sniffed petulantly. "He doesn't look like much to _me._ Just another peasant, frankly."

"What the fuck?" Lovino exclaimed, eyes narrowing. He crossed his arms and growled, "Listen up, bastards. I don't know who you are and I don't give a shit, but you need to get the fuck off of my property before I sic my Boy on your sorry asses."

"So _feisty_." The effeminate one simpered, stepping down from the carriage and reaching up a hand to help his partner out, "Is he not _adorable_ , Arthur? The dear boy is _just_ my type."

"Rude little shit, if you ask me." The one referred to as Arthur sneered, smacking the other's hand away. "And you needn't attempt to coax me down, you idiot. I have absolutely no desire to tag along just to watch you lust after some peasant brat."

"Ohonhon~, are you _jealous_ , _ma petit chenille_?" The girly one fawned theatrically, placing both hands over his heart and batting his lashes. "You need not worry, your dear Francis' heart belongs only to you, _n'est-ce pas?_ But there is no harm in a little fun on the side, now and then, _non_?" He winked.

"J-jealous? Of you? I most certainly am _not_!" Arthur sputtered furiously, growing red as he flailed about in the carriage. "Who in their right mind would be jealous of _you_ , you effeminate freak? Do as you please, you Franc bastard! I don't care a wh-!" Suddenly he stopped mid-rant, eyes growing round and mouth dropping open as he stared at something beyond Lovino. Both Lovino and Francis turned to see what he was staring at.

By the corner of the cottage stood Boy, obviously just having come from his work unloading their supplies, as he was clad only in trousers and his tanned skin sported a light sheen of sweat, causing faint steam to rise from him in the cold, crisp air. The early morning sunlight glinting off his body highlighted his physique, sculpted to near-perfection through long hours of intensive labour, the bright gold of his hair, and the intense blue of his eyes to great advantage.

Lovino didn't notice all this though, all that he noticed was that Boy was back. _Finally_. "W-where have you been, bastard?" He greeted, forgetting his visitors' existence entirely. "And when did you get back? How come I didn't hear you, dammit?"

"I got back about half an hour ago." Boy explained with a smile, all his attention likewise focused on Lovino. "You weren't on the roof, so I figured you were still asleep, so Horse and I were quiet so we wouldn't wake you up." He ran a hand through his hair, and glanced briefly at the others. "I heard shouting. Is everything all right?"

"I'm terribly sorry, that was my fault." Arthur spoke up from the carriage, reminding Lovino that he existed. "I'm afraid I got carried away, I do apologize. Most ungentlemanly of me. Allow me to introduce myself," the bushy-eyebrowed fellow continued as he leaned over the side of the carriage, green eyes glinting with obvious interest. "I am Arthur Kirkland, Duke of Shillings. You may address me 'Your Grace', or 'Sir'. And what might your name be, lad?" His address made it clear that he posed this question only to Boy. Lovino frowned. He didn't like the way this fuzz-browed bastard was looking at Boy. The way those green eyes lingered on Boy's exposed skin was kind of pissing him off, for some reason.

"Put some damn clothes on, bastard!" He barked, stomping over to thrust the shirt he still held at Boy. Boy blinked down at him in surprise, before taking it with a sunny smile.

"Thanks, it _is_ getting a little chilly out here." He replied. Lovino almost instantly regretted giving it to him when the nobleman leaned farther out of the carriage, licking his lips as he eyed the way Boy's torso arched and flexed, muscles rippling smoothly under his golden skin as he pulled the tunic over his head. Soon enough though, Boy was safely concealed under the coarse fabric, and Lovino breathed a sigh of relief. That is, until he realized that the fucking nobleman was _still_ staring, as the tunic had added some sort of rustic charm to Boy's boyish features, emphasizing his broad shoulders and bringing the focus up to his tousled golden hair, blue eyes, and soft mouth. Fuck. Where was a bag when he needed one? Or a bucket, _anything_ to hide the damn idiot from the pervert's greedy eyes. "So anyway, my name's Alfred." Boy answered, running a hand through his ruffled hair to smooth it. Lovino blinked, briefly distracted from his train of thought. Boy had a name? A proper one? "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"The pleasure's all mine, lad." The Duke smiled (fucking _leered,_ the fucking asshole- who the hell gave him the right to go around leering at other people's Boys?) eyes roving the farmboy's frame. "Alfred, eh? It's a fine name. A good Shillings name. Tell me, lad, are you a Shillingsman?"

"I'm not sure." Boy- er, Alfred, admitted. "I was found wandering in the forest when I was a child, and his grandfather was kind enough to take me in." He explained, gesturing to Lovino, who blinked again. He hadn't known that. Boy had just...always been there, like Horse or the cottage. He'd never thought to wonder _why_ or _how_ they'd gotten there. It'd be like wondering why the sun rose every morning, or why he needed to breathe, or why water quenched his thirst. Like all those things, Boy just... _was_. And up 'til now, he'd taken it for granted that Boy would _always_ be there, just like the sun or air or water. Now, though, he...he wasn't so sure. The uncertainty shook him deeply, and he was finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. The realization that Boy might not always be there was like finding out the earth underfoot might collapse unexpectedly at any moment, leaving him to plunge into a dark chasm without warning.

"Mm, a foundling, hm? You poor thing." Arthur hummed sympathetically. "Tell me, do you miss your parents, Alfred?" Lovino's eyes widened, and he glanced surreptitiously at Boy. That's right...Bo- er, Alfred would have had a family before he came here, right? What if he missed them? W-what if...what if he wanted to go back? To wherever he'd come from? His heart started to ache. Why had he never wondered where Bo- er, Alfred had come from, before? How could he have overlooked all this?

Bo- er, Alfred shrugged. "Not really. I don't remember them, if I ever knew them to begin with. Everything I've ever known is here, really, so I've no reason to be unhappy." He answered offhandedly, and Lovino clutched his shirt over his chest, heart pounding with relief. Good. Bo- er, Alfred didn't miss his family. He wouldn't want to leave.

Things only went downhill from there. After declining offers of refreshment, having brought their own along, the noblemen (chiefly the Duke) opted to tag along when Alfred attempted to excuse himself to finish unloading the supplies and taking care of Horse. The group followed the farmboy to the stable, where he once again stripped down to his trousers in order to tackle the sweaty work of unloading the cart of their supplies for the year. What would usually be a quiet, restful time with Lovino sprawled in the hay nearby, waiting for Boy to finish unloading the cart and rubbing down Horse so they could go inside and Boy could make something to eat (usually just some bread and cheese and the last of whatever Boy had left for him to eat while he was gone, but somehow it tasted a lot better when Boy had arranged it on the plate for him); was now crowded and frustrating. The stupid effeminate idiot ("Francis Bonnefoy~, _Prince du Sang de Franc_ ; but you may call me Francis, _mon chaton~_! _"_ ) fluttered in the background, chattered endlessly and uninterestingly while the fuzz-browed jackass hovered around Alfred, asking him stupid questions and generally getting in his way (the inconsiderate bastard, couldn't he see Bo- er, Alfred was trying to _work_? _He_ never got in B- er, Alfred's way, dammit. Why didn't B- Alfred just tell the bastard off?). The worst part was the way the fucking Duke was _looking_ at Alfred like he wanted to _eat_ him, like he was...Lovino didn't know, a fucking _cake_ or something; it was weird and really, for some reason just pissing the hell out of him. His fingers itched to tear the fucker's eyes out, but the bastard _was_ a Duke, and Lovino did have _some_ sense of self-preservation.

And then the Duke 'tripped', stumbling bodily into Alfred, who caught him- and instead of righting himself like a normal person, the bastard had the fucking gall to lean into Alfred, gazing up at him through thick blond lashes, blushing as he stuttered a breathy apology. Something inside Lovino snapped. Who the fuck did this bastard think he was, blushing at Boy? The only one who was allowed to blush at B- er, Alfred was him, dammit!

Lovino had Had Enough.

"Boy!" He barked, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at the interloper. "I'm thirsty. Get me some water."

"Alright." Alfred agreed, setting the Duke back on his feet and making his way into the cottage. As soon as he'd left, Lovino turned to snarl at His Grace the Duke of Shillings.

"Stop getting in Boy's way, you fucking bastard. Can't you see he's trying to _work_? Who the fuck do you think you are, anyway?"

"He certainly doesn't seem to mind." The Duke answered, smirking at him as he adjusted his gloves. "And I don't see why it should matter to you. Unless you're his lover?"

"N-no!" Lovino gaped, taken aback. "Boy and I aren't...like that."

"His master, then? Do you own him?"

"N-no." Lovino shifted uneasily, losing steam. "Not exactly. He's...um..."

"His employer, perhaps? Do you even _pay_ him?"

Lovino bit his lip, looking down. He'd...he'd never even thought about it. Boy had never asked for anything before...

Arthur took that as his answer, and his smirk widened. "Not his lover, not his master, not even his employer...certainly not his _friend_. So what hold exactly do you claim to have over him? It seems to me that Alfred is free for the taking, as it were." He said, and Lovino's eyes widened at the thought. The Duke tapped his chin thoughtfully. "In fact, perhaps he'd like to accompany me back to the palace. I could use a fine, strong lad about the place."

"No!" Lovino choked out, a shuddering gasp, tears blurring his vision. "Y-you can't! You can't have him! He's, he's, he's _mine_! _"_

"I do believe we've already established that he's _not_." The Duke said smugly.

"But, but, but.." Lovino sobbed, scrubbing at his eyes. He was wrong, he _had_ to be. Boy wouldn't leave him, right? But...the Duke _was_ nobility...and what did he have to offer in comparison to palaces and riches? It wasn't as if he was even _nice_ to B- er, Alfred... "He..."

"Ah~, dry your tears, _mon petit amour._ " The other nobleman slung his arm around Lovino's shoulders, offering his handkerchief. "You can do _so_ much better than a silly farm boy, my dear. Such a lovely creature as yourself should aim higher, _non_? Why don't you come along with me, hmm? I am sure we could come to some sort of...mutually beneficial arrangement, ahonhon~."

"D-don't touch me, asshole." Lovino growled, sniffling heavily as he tried to shove the Franc Prince off, to no avail. The man clung like a fucking barnacle.

"Struggling only excites me more~, _mon minet_!" Francis leered, pressing closer. "I am sure you will come to enjoy-" Suddenly his arms disappeared from around Lovino, who looked up in surprise to see B-, er, Alfred holding the Francman's wrist aloft in an iron grip, looking angrier than Lovino had ever seen him.

"Lovino." Alfred said, with a cold, furious calm that sent shivers down Lovino's spine, "Get in the house." Obediently, Lovino fled the barn, terrified by the strangeness of an angry Boy. He didn't running until he reached his room in the cottage, burying himself under the blanket and sobbing into his pillow, shivering in fear and confusion. He'd _never_ seen Boy angry before. It was _terrifying_. But why was Boy angry? Was Boy angry with _him_? Had he done something wrong? What if Boy wanted to leave with the Duke, and was angry that Lovino'd tried to keep the Duke from taking him away? What if Boy was leaving with the Duke _right now_?

Lovino clung to his pillow, a deep ache growing in his chest as his fear grew and changed. It wasn't as if there was anything keeping B- Alfred here on the farm. Like the Duke had said...it wasn't as if Lovino had any claim over him. Now that he was actually _thinking_ about it, why _would_ Alfred stay? Lovino wasn't even _nice_ to him. Alfred did all the work and took care of everything that needed doing, and all Lovino ever did was order him around and lounge about doing nothing, really. Who _would_ want to stay with someone like that? He could see it now- Alfred would accept the Duke's offer, and go and live in luxury and forget about Lovino entirely.

He shot up in bed, scrubbing at his eyes as he ran for the door. He had to stop that from happening! He had to go back out there and convince Boy to stay! He'd change, he would! He'd help out around the place and do the chores cook and clean and take care of B- er, Alfred, anything it took to keep him from leaving! If only Alfred would stay, he swore he'd do anything! The sound of carriage wheels on the road met his ears as he flung the door open, and he stopped, feeling his heart tear in two. He was too late, they'd taken him, Alfred was leaving with the Duke, he was lost to Lovino forever. It was all his fault- if only he'd treated B- er, Alfred better! If only he'd realized sooner that-

"Are you alright?" Lovino's wide, teary eyes turned to the source of the voice, almost unable to believe his ears. B- er, Alfred, fully dressed once more, stood not four feet away, looking at him with concern in those blue eyes. "You don't have to worry, they're gone. I sent them away, they won't be coming back."

Joy and relief overwhelmed him, and he sagged against the door-frame, closing his eyes. Boy was here. He hadn't gone. It was okay. Everything was alright.

"Are you alright?" Alfred asked, stepping forward in alarm. "They didn't hurt you, did they? _Fuck_ , I should have-"

"No, I'm okay, idiot." Lovino answered, pushing himself off the door-frame and wiping the tears from his cheeks. He took a deep breath, and exhaled. "I'm just...I'm just hungry, dammit."

"Alright." Alfred smiled, shoulders relaxing. "Why don't you go lay down, and I'll come and make you something as soon as I've finished putting Horse away."

Lovino started to nod, and then remembered his resolution. "No! No, I can do it. I'll make it! I'll make something good to eat, so come eat it when you're done, okay?"

Alfred stared at him oddly, mouth working silently for a moment. "...You...don't have to do that." He said finally. "I don't mind-"

"No! I'll make it, I will! I said I'd do it, dammit!" Lovino insisted, crossing his arms.

Alfred blinked at him, and gave a hesitant smile. "...Alright. I'll just...go put Horse away, then. I'll be in soon."

"I'll make something really good, just you wait!" Lovino called after him, and went back inside to do just that. Going to the kitchen, he set his hands on his hips, surveying the area. What to make? He'd never cooked before, but it couldn't be _that_ hard if ordinary people did it. He'd make something really delicious, and B- Alfred would _never_ want to leave him, ever! Now...where were the pots?

Fifteen minutes later, he was sitting on a stump outside while B- er, Alfred bandaged his burned hand. "It's not as bad as it looks." Alfred reassured him. "It was mostly just smoke. I can pick up a new pot next time I'm in town, and it won't take long at all to build another chair. Does your hand hurt much?"

"No." Lovino sniffled quietly, embarrassed and ashamed of his failure. Who knew you were supposed to put water in the pot _before_ you cooked the stew? His stomach growled, and he blushed, hunching over as his embarrassment deepened. Alfred smiled.

"I'll get a fire started and make us something to eat. It'll take a while for the smoke to dissipate in the house, so we'll eat outside tonight, hm? That'll be nice." He said warmly as he stood, releasing Lovino's hand.

"I'll help!" Lovino said eagerly, looking for a chance to redeem himself. "I'll, I'll, build the fire."

Alfred chuckled, placing the armful of wood he'd already gathered from the woodpile on the ground and starting to arrange it. "It's alright, you're injured. I don't mind doing it. Why don't you just wait here and rest up?"

"You don't think I can do it, bastard?" Lovino asked, crossing his arms and scowling.

"I'm sure you could." Alfred smiled, setting the last of the wood in place. "But it's probably better if you don't handle fire so soon after you've been burned. You can do it after you heal, okay? If you still want to."

"A-alright." Lovino deflated, biting his lip. Damn. He had to do _something_ though. He could still show B- Alfred that he was worth sticking around for! "Then, I'll get the food!" He offered. "That shouldn't be a problem, right? I can do that while you make the fire."

"Okay." Alfred agreed warmly, striking the flint and sparking the tinder. "Just make sure you don't breathe in too much of the smoke, okay? Be careful."

"I, I know that!" Lovino protested (he hadn't). "I'll be fine, dammit!"

"I'm sure you will." The smile Alfred gave him over the budding flame sent his stomach fluttering oddly. He blushed, backing away.

"I'll, I'll just...go get the food now, then." He stuttered, and fled. The smell of smoke in the cottage was a little overpowering, but he tried to breath shallowly as he rummaged through the pantry, looking for something suitable for cooking over the fire outside. Coming across some potatoes, he frowned, about to toss them aside- but hesitated. He hated potatoes, but if he was pretty sure B-, er, Alfred liked them. He could suffer through them for B- Alfred's sake. Making a makeshift pocket with his tunic, he placed several potatoes inside, and nodded in satisfaction. That should be enough, right? Now for something to flavour it...he was pretty sure they had some Romano somewhere in the pantry. B- er, Alfred often brought some back with him from town, knowing that it was one of Lovino's favourite cheeses. That and some fresh tomatoes from his garden should make it perfect! Digging around, he located the cork-sealed jar they kept the Romano in, and broke off a chunk, throwing it into his tunic with the potatoes. Remembering to reseal the jar before closing the pantry door, he started to head out, and paused as it hit him- it was pretty cold outside today, and if he and B- Alfred were going to have to stay outside for several hours until the cottage aired out, they might catch cold. He should grab some blankets to keep them warm while they waited!

With a proud huff -Alfred hadn't even suggested it! He'd thought of it all on his own! He was _helpful_!- Lovino trotted up to their rooms, grabbing their blankets from their respective beds. It was a little tough trying to carry both the blankets and the food in his arms without tripping, but with a little extra care he managed it. He exited the cottage (taking deep, refreshing lungfuls of the cool, clean air) and headed for the garden, gathering some nice, ripe tomatoes and adding them to his makeshift 'pocket' on top of the potatoes and cheese. It was even more difficult to balance everything in his arms without dropping anything after he'd finished, but he was careful and made it back with everything intact.

"I'm back!" He announced proudly, straining to peer over the pile in his arms as he staggered towards the fire. "I got us lots of good food, and since it's cold I brought blankets, too. Praise me!"

"That's a good idea! You're right, it's chilly out." Alfred praised accordingly, jumping up from where he sat. "Here, let me help you carry those."

"I got it, bastard." Lovino protested, twisting his bundle out of Alfred's reach, struggling to maintain his balance. "I can do it- fuck!" The edge of his makeshift pocket slipped from his grasp, spilling potatoes and tomatoes and cheese on the ground, and as he tried to catch it he tripped on a corner of a blanket which dragged on the ground, sending him sprawling towards the fire.

"Shit!" Alfred yelled, catching him just before he tumbled into the flame. Setting Lovino on his feet a safe distance from the fire, he turned to pull the blankets out of it, smothering them where they'd caught fire. Once he was satisfied they were extinguished, he wiped his brow, turning to Lovino. "Are you okay? You didn't get burned, did you?"

Shaken, Lovino surveyed the damage he'd caused- their dinner scattered in the dirt, tomatoes smashed and cheese dirty, their blankets burned, and worst of all, he'd put Boy in danger. _Fuck_. Couldn't he do _anything_ right? Shaking, he turned and ran, far from the scene of his humiliating defeat, unable to face B- Alfred.

After a short search, Alfred found him curled up in the hayloft, hiding under the hay and crying his eyes out. "Lovino?" He called softly, from his place on the ladder. "Why don't you come out and have something to eat? It wasn't as bad as it looked, everything was pretty much salvageable. The potatoes should be done soon, and I should be able to patch up the blankets in no time. It was an accident, okay? These things happen to the best of us."

"Go away." Lovino sniffled, curling up into a tighter ball, unable to face Alfred in his shame and humiliation. How could he even think of food when his stomach was hurting like this?

"Come on, you have to be hungry." Alfred coaxed gently. "I'll put extra cheese on your potatoes and you can wrap up in both blankets for now, okay?"

"I said _go away_ , bastard." Lovino responded, burying his face in his arms. He didn't want to watch B- Alfred buttering him up before he left, he wouldn't be able to bear it. "I'm not hungry, dammit."

"...Alright." Alfred sighed after a moment. "But it'll be ready for you when you are, okay? Just come down when you're ready." He waited for a moment for a response, but when none was forthcoming he sighed again, and left quietly. Lovino listened to his footsteps retreating in the distance, and started to sob in earnest. B- Alfred was _sure_ to leave him now that he'd shown how useless he was. He cried himself into exhaustion, falling asleep in the hay without being aware that he'd done so.

As he slept, he dreamed.

Duke Arthur had returned, dressed in expensive silks and lace, and travelling in a magnificent carriage, glinting with gold and jewels and pulled by four white horses, coats gleaming in the sunlight. As soon as the carriage came to a stop, the door to the cottage was thrown wide and there stood B- er, Alfred, all of his belongings packed in a bag he carried slung over his shoulder. He smiled widely at the Duke, who gestured grandly at him in welcome, stepping down from his carriage as Alfred approached. "I knew you'd come to me, lad." The Duke spoke in a sultry tone, fluttering his lashes up at the taller blond. Alfred nodded, gathering the Duke in his strong arms, smiling beatifically down at him.

"I couldn't resist your riches and charms." He agreed, pulling him close. "And your horses are much prettier than Horse, too."

The Duke leaned up, running gloved hands up Alfred's arms, clasping them behind the other's neck. "You'll live in luxury with me, darling~. You'll never have to think about that stupid peasant brat again. You can forget anything that happened before you met me, my love!"

"I already have." Alfred answered, gazing heatedly down at the Duke in his arms. "I totally don't remember Lovino at all. He was totally a jerk, anyway. You're _much_ nicer, even though your eyebrows look like fuzzy caterpillars."

"Kiss me, Alfred, you handsome peasant, you!" The Duke swooned.

"Sure, why not." Alfred shrugged. "It's gotta be better than taking care of that useless Lovino."

"It is." Arthur agreed, puckering up. "Kiss me, and I'll take you away from this terrible place forever!"

"Sounds like a deal." Alfred responded, closing his eyes and leaning down.

"No!" Lovino screamed, waking up in a cold sweat, flailing wildly in the hay. He panted heavily, shivering, looking around himself with wide eyes. What a _nightmare_. He staggered to his feet, legs trembling with the adrenaline still pumping through his system, and pulled the blanket around his shoulders against the chill. Wait, blanket? He blinked down at the blanket he'd been wrapped in when he'd woken. It was his blanket, the burnt parts carefully mended with patches of what had clearly been Alfred's blanket. Had Alfred...? It must have taken him _hours_. His vision blurred with tears, and he blinked rapidly to clear them, lifting his head to see a plate sitting next to the ladder, full of roast potatoes and cheese, with his beloved tomatoes on the side. Scrubbing at his eyes, he squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He had to find Boy. Alfred.

Scrambling down the ladder, he ran out of the barn, surprised to see from the star-studded sky that he'd been asleep for a lot longer than he'd thought. Alfred should be in bed, then! He ran into the cottage, slamming the door open in his haste, and skidded to a stop in front of Alfred's door, banging on it desperately. "B- Alfred! Alfred, wake up! Wake up, bastard!"

The door swung open to reveal a sleep-mussed Alfred, brows furrowed in concern. "What's wrong?" He asked, glancing around to see if there was any danger immediately threatening in the vicinity. Seeing nothing, he focused his attention on a ruffled, hay-covered Lovino, trembling in his doorway. "Did you have a nightmare?" He asked, reaching out to pick some hay from Lovino's hair. "We can go to the kitchen, and I'll make you some hot milk or something to settle you down."

With a deep shuddering breath, Lovino found his tongue. "Look, bas- er, Bo-, er, Alfred." He started determinedly, not noticing Alfred's eyes widen at the use of his name. "I've been thinking a lot today, and I realized something. I, I love you. I really, really do. A lot. Not like I love tomatoes, but, you know, _really_. I probably always have, but I didn't know it until now. I know I'm useless and lazy and kind of a jerk to you and you have no reason to stick around, honestly I don't know why you've stuck around this long, but I don't want you to leave me for some stupid caterpillar-faced bastard even if he is rich and can treat you better and has prettier horses, okay? So please don't leave me, I'll work hard and take better care of you and learn to do the chores and stuff but you'll probably still have to take care of Horse 'cause even though I like him he's big and kind of scares me, and I'll probably always kind of be a jerk 'cause I when you're around me I get all flustered and confused and don't know what to do or say so I get frustrated and it sort of comes out all wrong but if you left I think I'd die so please, please don't leave me, okay?" He finished in a rush, flushing deeply, but having managed to hold Alfred's gaze the whole time, ignoring the tears that had started flowing down his own cheeks halfway through his confession.

Alfred stared down at him for one long, breathless moment- and then he shut the door.

Lovino stared blankly at the wood of the door, suddenly feeling just as dead inside as the tree it had been hewn from. Well, that was it, then. There was his answer. Alfred didn't love him back. Nothing left for him to do but go and die. He turned, and numbly made his way to his own room, to curl up in his bed and wait for death to claim the rest of him, as it surely would since it had already claimed his heart.

Sometime later there was a knock at his door. He sat up, listlessly staring at it. Alfred must have come to finish the job, to tell him that he didn't love him and that he was so disgusted with his confession that he was running away to live with the Duke, or some other fuzzy-faced rich bastard, it didn't matter really, not anymore. Might as well let Alfred have his say so Lovino could die in peace. It couldn't hurt anymore than it already did. He crossed the floor, and opened his door to see Alfred standing there, fully dressed and with his things packed and slung over his shoulder, just like in his dream, and suddenly realized that he'd been completely wrong- it _could_ hurt more. _Shit_. The heart he'd thought had died was being torn to pieces inside him. _Alfred was leaving_. He took a step back, and tried to close the door, but Alfred's hand shot out, holding it open.

"Wh-"

"I love you." Alfred said, cutting through Lovino's attempted protest, and Lovino froze. "I've loved you since the day your grandfather brought me here to live, and you gave me your tomato when you found me crying under the tree out back 'cause I was scared and lonely and told me that I was stupid for worrying 'cause you'd always be here. I fell in love with you then, and I swore then and there that I'd do everything in my power to make you happy. I didn't expect you to love me back, but now that you do...I'm so happy I could burst. I love you, Lovino, and I always will. So," He added, hefting the bag on his shoulder, "I'm going to go out and seek my fortune. And when I find it, I'm going to send for you, and then we can live together happily ever after, okay?" Lovino's mouth dropped open, and Alfred continued, heedless to his shock, "If I leave now, I can probably make it to the port by noon. I'll write to you every day, I promise. And-" The rest of his sentence was cut off by an angry brunet's fist to his jaw, knocking him flat on his back on the floor. More startled than hurt, he could only stare in surprise as Lovino stepped forward to pin him to the floor with a foot on his chest, cracking his knuckles and snarling furiously down at him.

"Listen up, you _stupid motherfucker._ " Lovino began, hazel eyes livid, " _You_ are _not_ going _anywhere_ , dammit." Alfred opened his mouth to respond, but Lovino waved him to silence. "What the _fuck_ kind of stupid-ass plan is that? You _finally_ tell me you love me, and you're just going to _leave_? _Now?_ By _ship_ no less, when _everyone_ knows the fucking _Dread Pirate Roberts_ is _always_ off the coast of Florin this time of year, you _stupid bastard_. Are you _trying_ to get killed? And why the fuck do you suddenly need a fortune, anyway? You and me and Horse have been perfectly happy with what we have up 'til now, haven't we, bastard? If being rich suddenly matters to you, then why the hell don't you just go marry the fucking _Duke_ , you fucking _asshole_?"

"And another thing!" He continued, flinging both arms in the air and starting to pace as Alfred watched him with wide eyes, mouth hanging open, "What the _hell_ makes you think it's a great idea to leave me and Horse here alone? I almost burned the house down trying to make stew! How can you _possibly_ think we'd survive a _week_ without you? If you absolutely _have_ to go find your damn fortune then why the _hell_ can't you take us with you? I mean, FUCK!" He fisted his hair, eyes wild. "What if you got captured by pirates or something and I thought you were dead for, I don't know, _five years_ or something, and then some crazy idiot Prince came and threatened to kill me if I didn't marry him and I thought you were dead so I agreed and he hired some thugs to kill me so he could blame it on Guilder to start a war, and then you heard about it while you were out at sea and came back as a pirate to fucking save me after you hadn't let me know you were still fucking alive _, you stupid asshole?"_

Alfred blinked several times, taken aback. "I...don't think that would happen." He said cautiously. "That's a pretty farfetched set of circumstances, Lovino. And isn't the Dread Pirate Roberts your Uncle Antonio?"

"Not anymore, no." Lovino answered with a dismissive wave, having calmed somewhat after his tirade, and crossed his arms. "He retired years ago and is living like a king somewhere in Patagonia. I'm just saying though, you never know. And that doesn't make your idea any less stupid, stupid."

"Well," Alfred muttered, pushing himself up on his elbows and fiddling with the hem of his tunic, looking down, "It's just...all these nobles and important people are always coming around to see you, and trying to lure you away, and your brother married an _Ambassador_ and went off to live in a _Palace_ , and what can I offer compared to all that? I mean, " He continued, sitting up and ruffling his hair frustratedly, "the last one was a fucking _Prince_ , and I'm just a farm boy, you know? I-" He was cut off yet again, this time when Lovino tackled him to the floor, kissing him soundly. Alfred's arms wound themselves around Lovino, and he melted into him, returning the kiss with equal fervour.

Eventually they parted, panting, and Lovino pressed his forehead to Alfred's, murmuring, "I don't need any money, idiot. I need _you_ , and I don't care whether you're noble or rich or poor or stupid shit like that, okay? Just you. And if we truly love each other, then we can be truly happy, no matter what our circumstances, as long as we're together, right? Not one couple in a thousand has that kind of chance, you stupid bastard, so don't fuck it up by running off when everything we need to be happy is right here, okay?" He punctuated his statement with another kiss, and Alfred smiled.

"Yeah." He murmured back, reaching up to caress Lovino's face, pressing a kiss of his own to the other's lips, "You're right. That was a pretty stupid idea. I'll stay."

"Damn right." Lovino agreed, and sat up, tugging on Alfred's hand. "Now that we've gotten that straightened out, let's go to bed. I don't know about you, but I've had a really long fucking day, and I'm pretty tired. Since we only have one blanket now, we'll have to share. And it's really cold, so I'll need you to keep me warm, too. Okay?"

"As you wish." Alfred smiled, kissing his knuckles, and followed him to bed.

Everything thus resolved, they lived happily ever after, which just goes to show that although True Love Will Follow You Forever, True Love With Half a Brain Won't Leave You in the First Place... thereby preventing the necessity.

* * *

_AN: I warned you! Things you should probably know- since 'Florin' and 'Guilder' were based off of coinage, I based 'Shilling' and 'Franc' after coinage as well. I was tempted to use 'Guinea' for the UK since it's less-well-known, but decided it would be too confusing, and besides, shillings are closer in value to florins and guilders anyway._


End file.
